


The Darkest Pit in Me

by quiet_rebel



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet_rebel/pseuds/quiet_rebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on season 2 spoilers from the trailer and the behind the scenes special | “And he makes me want to hand myself over”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkest Pit in Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you've seen the trailer and behind the scenes special, you know we're in for some pain and suffering. I say bring it!
> 
> Song on repeat: "Pagan Poetry" by Bjork https://youtu.be/Wp6tAcjq0N0
> 
> Thanks to Taylah for the feedback: "The whole thing hurts so much. " Yup, it does.
> 
> Feedback is fuel.

Kate isn't stupid.

She hears the spoon clatter against the bathroom counter, the plastic wrapper crinkle in Seth's hands, then his heavy breathing.

 _Breathe_ , she tells herself. Reminds herself. 

She sits cross-legged on their bed in the motel room. A telenovela plays softly on the television screen. Even though the picture cuts in and out, she tries to concentrate on the show, but she can't. Not when she knows what Seth is doing in the bathroom.

Kate isn't stupid.

Neither is Seth. It's like he left the bathroom door open for a reason, for her to know, for her to watch and understand. Show her that he's a bad man, a criminal, a devil in a suit. 

But she stays put, keeps her gaze glued to the man and woman arguing on the grainy screen. She wants to get up and smack the side of the television. Maybe that will fix things.

_Maybe that will..._

She hears the lighter hiss. 

_...fix things._

She runs her hands through her hair and closes her eyes, but she can still hear (Seth tapping a vein), she can still smell (something harsh like burning plastic), she can still feel (her stomach clench), and she can still taste (the sour bile threatening to rise up in her throat). 

When Seth exhales, Kate opens her eyes. And she's moving, floating. The next thing she knows, she's standing in the doorway of the bathroom. On the counter is the silver spoon stained with black residue and the empty plastic baggie that was just filled with white powder. 

Seth sits on the tiled floor with his legs spread out in front of him, his eyes shut, and his back pressed against the tub. He wears a white undershirt and black slacks. His left toe sticks out of a hole in his black sock. He hasn't shaved in weeks and his dark hair is long and unruly. She made a comment once about his appearance; the next day, he visited a tattoo artist. She stares at the spiraling black ink on his right arm, where the flames now lick his neck. 

Her gaze drops to the needle in Seth's arm; the rubber cord still tied above his elbow. His face is calm and serene like he's ready to sleep forever. 

Three months ago, Kate might have screamed at Seth. Three months ago, she might have stormed out of the motel room, never to return. Three months ago, she had a father and brother.

Now, she only has Seth.

She crosses her arms and scratches the imaginary itch on her skin. Something festers inside. 

When he opens his glassy eyes, he looks like he's coming out of a dream or maybe he thinks he's entering one. She wonders if shooting up makes him believe this life on the road isn't reality, that it's just a nightmare that started soon after the Twister. First, it was the booze, then the pills, now the heroin. She gets it; Seth doesn't want to wake up.

And she wonders what that would feel like.

To light the flame. To fasten the cord around her arm. To tap the vein. To shoot the drug into her body. 

To forget, to remember. To forget to remember. 

But Kate isn't that stupid.

Instead, she lowers herself in front of Seth. He blinks once, twice. Stares at her like he's not sure if she's real ( _I am_ ) or just a part of his hazy dream ( _I am_ ). 

She gently reaches over to him and holds his hand. And she waits.

She waits for him to wake up.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I've written seven fics for Kate/Seth in a month--and this was the first time I cried writing them. 
> 
> Jerks.


End file.
